


The Family You Make

by angel_vixen



Category: Voltron: Lion Voltron
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Community: purimgifts, Families of Choice, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_vixen/pseuds/angel_vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the relative peace after the attack on Planet Doom, Allura restores a tradition, and finds something for herself in the meantime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family You Make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thistlerose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/gifts).



> I was so excited to get you as my recipient! Your stories have given me a lot of enjoyment over the years, and I hope I can give you back some of the same with your gifts. And thank you, too, for introducing me to Lion Voltron! I knew _of_ it, but when I sat down to watch so I could get a feel for it, I ended up liking it myself. Who knew?
> 
> A hat-tip to Gelsey, Beta Extraordinaire.

Traditionally, festivals are held at the beginning of spring, when the changes coax the trees into bloom, and after the turn of the fall, when the crops have been harvested. Temporary stalls spring up the night before ( _like magic toadstools_ , she told her father years ago, tugging him to the window), and by mid-morning, the smells of baking are thick in the air.

It's precisely the right type of day, as perfect as if she'd had it specially made. The air is warm enough that she doesn't need a cloak, and the sun is gentle. She stops and tips her head back, letting herself bask for a moment. It doesn't seem like she can be outside enough -- she feels half-starved for it, after living in the dark for so long.

A sound to her side makes her open her eyes and turn her head, raising an eyebrow in curiosity at the look on Pidge's face. He looks up at her, face split in a grin, eyes shining and huge, and she wonders suddenly if this is what having a little brother is like. Someone to share this kind of moment, happy and relaxed together.

Something about the thought makes her chest tighten, hot and sweet.

"Just look at all the _people!_ They're not so scared anymore, now that Doom doesn't have much to work with." He flings an arm out, nearly hitting someone, then steps closer to Allura after stammering an apology. "Do you think they have sweet buns yet, Princess?" Pidge clasps his hands hopefully, hopping back and forth from foot to foot as his smile turns sly. "Hunk made me promise I'd save some for him. But _I_ say he could've gotten up earlier."

Allura grins back, tucking a curl behind her ear as she pushes away the memory of Nanny's admonitions not to spoil her lunch. _Especially_ with sweets. "I think they'll have some by now." She beckons to the two guards Coran sent with them. "We'll go there first!"

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

They choose a shady spot off the main path, four sweet buns and a bottle of lemonade between them as they get comfortable. In deference to the fact that lunch isn't far in the future, only one of the buns is for Allura, and the lemonade is to share. But as Pidge digs in with relish, she sits still for a bit, taking in all the sounds and people before taking a bite of her own.

"When was the last time you had one of these?" Pidge happily tears into his second, swiping at his mouth with his hand.

"The buns?" Allura looks at him in surprise. "Last spring. You know it's tradition."

Pidge flaps his hand dismissively. "No, no, I meant a festival. How long ago was the last one?"

"Oh." She looks back at the milling crowd, trying to remember. "I...don't know, actually. Several years." Her father was still alive, but oddly, she can't be sure how long it was before he'd died. She knows she'd gone with Nanny, because Father'd been busy, and she'd worn a yellow dress he said made her look like sunshine. But the memory is blurry otherwise.

Leaning back against the tree-trunk, hands behind his head, her companion crosses his ankles and nods. "We used to have one in the wintertime." He scrunches his nose, adding unnecessarily: "Back home, I mean." She can see his eyes go distant, even at this angle. "Everyone would go ice-skating on the lake, and they sold all kinds of hot drinks around the edge." His Adam's-apple bobs, but his voice stays steady. "You just skated up to a booth, then took your drink back out with you."

"That sounds lovely." Allura wishes they got more snow in this part of the kingdom. He doesn't continue the thought, merely raising the bottle to his mouth before swiping at it with his sleeve and passing it to her. She salutes him with it, and when it makes him smile like she hoped, she takes a drink too. Passing it back, she wipes at the corner of her lips with her fingertip. "I wish we got more snow here." She smiles broadly, feeling playful. "If we did, you could teach me to skate."

His third bun stops half-way to Pidge's mouth. "You don't know how?!" He eyes her in horror, then after taking a bite that requires comically contorting his face, he starts plotting out loud how to remedy this failing.

All Allura can do is throw her head back and laugh.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

They sit out the first of the musicians' set, because Pidge doesn't like the slower partnered dances, but the second is a fast-paced roundabout, and they grab each other's wrists and toss themselves into the whirlwind. After that comes a line-dance, and Allura watches him watch her feet, grinning once he's confident in the motions, like he's just cracked a difficult code. She tosses her hair and claps to the beat, waving to Hunk as he appears in the crowd of watchers, picnic basket held over his shoulder. But then the fiddlers start a jig, and she and Pidge square off in friendly competition, feet flying. They link elbows to spin, and Allura lets her head drop back, laughing delightedly at the non-stop circles they do until she can barely see. The music ends with a flourish, and she and Pidge clasp each other's forearms to steady themselves, breathless with effort and glee. They stagger through the crowd towards Hunk, flanked now by a whistling Lance and a smiling Keith.

She looks down at Pidge, who's still a bit flushed, and he offers her his arm gallantly. Curling her hand into his elbow, they fall behind as Hunk and Lance snipe congenially over where to eat lunch. She and Pidge roll their eyes at each other and smirk, and the happy feeling behind her breastbone builds again.

"C'mon," she murmurs. With an answering grin, Pidge speeds their pace to catch up with the others.


End file.
